


All the World's a Stage

by pressedviolets



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: And sad Harry, And sad Louis oops, Angst, Kendall Jenner is also mentioned once, Lots of sad Zayn, Mentions of Eleanor Calder - Freeform, Sophia is mentioned once, Threesome, Unrequited, basically everyone's sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:51:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedviolets/pseuds/pressedviolets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back then, Harry liked to call it 'destiny' and Louis liked to call him an idiot (with fondness behind his eyes, mind you). </p><p> Nearly two years into their career, Harry and Louis end sooner than they can begin and it's Zayn's part to bring them back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the World's a Stage

It's uncanny, really, that they aren't the closest in the band anymore. In all fairness, it was rather early on in their friendship and neither of them had gotten the chance become comfortable around each other because they had to rehearse, rehearse, rehearse and God forbid they get chucked out of the competition before they've even begun to prove what they were capable of. It was always a bit awkward at first, though the boys liked to compliment themselves on how fast they grew like one another. Someone was always getting on someone else's nerves, pushing buttons he had yet to learn should absolutely not be pushed or saying something that certainly should not have been said. 

It was never that way for Louis and Harry. Not at first. It was a short, but wild ride. Back then, Harry liked to call it 'destiny' and Louis liked to call him an idiot (with fondness behind his eyes, mind you). There was no other explanation why two lads would meet in a dinky lavatory of all places when their future was going to be huge and amazing and so unlike that of most teenage boys with dreams equally as large and much less unlikely to be attained. 

"Destiny," Harry had said the week before they were voted off the X Factor, but presently the word had a somewhat sour ring to it. It wasn't until the beginning of their very first world tour that Louis breathed the promise to him again, albeit a bit differently. They were sweaty and completely untidy after their twentieth show (or thirtieth? Neither boy could remember). Emerging from the stage, Harry caught one long glimpse of Louis' bright, animated expression and he forgot the rather memorable events of the night immediately. 

Harry started when Louis grabbed his hand, squeezing it wordlessly. It was as if time had stopped. For what seemed like the longest time, they just looked at each other, both believing they would burst because this was all they had ever wanted, all they had ever talked about back at the judges house all the way through the end. Louis could feel Harry's pulse racing, his nimble fingers pressed against the boy's wrist. They were completely high on adrenaline and something else neither one was familiar enough with to describe. 

"Destiny," Louis said, his voice cracking. The two started at the loud bustle of noise behind them. The other boys were approaching directly in the middle of their moment alone, which right up until it took place neither knew they needed. 

"I thought you didn't like that word." Harry was only teasing, but Louis seemed to misread him, something he rarely did as they had grown to know each other so well. Harry still remembers that moment to this day and he frowns because he pinpoints it as the moment when he and Louis had started to truly become unfamiliar. It was stupid and completely irrelevant to their current situation, but it stuck for some reason. 

"Fate, then. I like fate." Harry smiled at that, Louis' favorite kind of smile with white teeth and dimples and rosy cheeks. 

"I'm glad I met you, Harry," Louis said with something different in his voice. It was new and only the smallest bit terrifying. Both boys were grateful when Niall tackled them to the ground from behind, yelling about how incredible the crowd was and other exclamations of enthusiasm which suddenly seemed minuscule in comparison to this brand new discovery. This, whatever this was, it was huge. Bigger than attending the same concert before they knew each other, meeting in the bathroom or even being in a world famous band. 

\--

"What are you reading?" Harry inquired with only slight genuine curiosity. He flinched, wondering if the boy could pick up on his lack of interest. 

"Shakespeare," Zayn answered without looking up. 

He had been watching Zayn from Niall’s bunk for nearly ten minutes, bouncing around anxiously, causing the bed to groan. He could tell that the noise was bothering Zayn, who’s eyebrows were furrowed as his eyes travelled the length of the pages. Harry huffed, frowning because he wanted Zayn to tell him to stop or yell at him or something. Any reaction was better than being ignored. 

Liam came in moments later, saying something to Zayn about soundcheck. Harry watched how easily Zayn put away his book to talk to Liam and felt himself feeling more hurt than angry. They laughed about something before Liam left. Harry was too focused on how nice Zayn’s laughter sounded to observe how his eyes still lingered on the door moments after Liam had gone. 

Harry found himself pouting and, deciding he'd rather not stick around, went to find Louis, who knew the moment he felt Harry's icy cold limbs around him that something was wrong.

"What's up, Harry?" Louis was a bit annoyed because he was trying to text his sisters back at home, whom he hadn't seen in what felt like ages. Though he would have preferred to be alone right now, he loved Harry to pieces and hesitantly gave him his full attention. 

"I don't think he likes me," and it was an indicator of just how much the subject came up that he didn't have to clarify who exactly 'he' was. "It's been months and I've been trying and now it's just annoying."

Harry looked mostly mad, but Louis could tell how much he was saddened by the thought. He was a natural born people pleaser. The world just didn't seem right unless everyone liked him. Louis thought about how he reacted to those comments on twitter a few months ago. Quite frankly, he believed in this case that Harry was overreacting. From what he could see, Zayn was positively lovely to everyone, though he had trouble expressing it sometimes. 

Louis could recall before they had met Zayn, who hadn't shown up to hang out with them that first time. Louis wanted to laugh now because he mistook it for nonchalantness when in reality Zayn was always either bloody late or a no-show and he had gotten so irritated for nothing. 

"Suppose he's awful," Harry had said back then, accomplishing nothing but worrying the rest of them. 

"Or suppose he's fucking amazing," Louis had countered. Louis still smiles about that because he likes to think that he was right. He was quiet, that was for sure and at first he wasn't much comfortable talking to anyone save for Liam, followed by Niall quickly after, only because he was perhaps the most lovable creature in the world. 

"How is he really?" Louis had asked, poking Liam who swatted him away in annoyance. 

"I like him. We had a pretty nice chat."

At this, Louis had bravely marched to Zayn's bunk, Harry cowering in Niall's room, waiting. When Louis had emerged half an hour later looking pleased, Harry didn't even have to ask. "He's a nice, normal guy," he had flopped down on the bed beside Harry, looking almost looked disappointed. Almost. 

"I quite like him, actually,” he continued.”Thought he'd be a right twat after standing us up."

Ever since then, Harry felt almost pressured to be as close to Zayn as the others were and it was driving him completely mad. 

"Don't rush it. It'll happen on it's own time," Louis advised, going back to his phone. Lottie had gotten a lot faster at texting. 

Harry was losing patience with the entire matter. It was Louis who had originally told him to find something he had in common with Zayn (which, Harry was sure, was absolutely nothing because they had to be from completely different galaxies). He felt like he was getting mixed messages from Louis who couldn't possibly understand how much this meant to Harry because he had immediately clicked with Zayn in one setting and it wasn't fair. 

"He hates me, I know he does."

"What was he doing? I'll bet you were bothering him and that's what made him testy. No one could ever hate that cute little face," he reached down just to tug on his friend's plump cheek. 

"He was reading. All he cares about is that stupid book." It was only because Harry looked so exasperated that Louis suggested, "Why not ask him about his book then? What was he reading?"

"He wouldn't tell me. He just said 'Shakespeare.' You wanted to be a drama teacher, you probably know it. I saw the words on the back, something about the earth being staged…"

"All the world's a stage," Louis said thoughtfully. "It's a line, from one of Shakespeare's plays, I think. No, I haven't ever gotten around to reading it. You should go ask him what it's about." 

"I doubt he'd answer me. He would just ignore me." At that point he had pretty much given up trying to help Harry because he could be so negative sometimes when he wanted. Harry had spent the next few minutes sulking, watching Louis' fingers dance across his phone's keyboard when he suddenly perked up. 

"What's Zayn's favorite cereal?"

"Weetabix, I think," and it was a sign of how distracted he was that Louis didn't bother to seem a bit curious of what his best friend had in mind. 

"I'm going to the kitchen," Harry bounced up from Louis' bed excitedly. It was only when the force of his movement disturbed Louis' own position that he took notice. 

"What are you going to do, make him eat cereal? My God, Harry, it's nearly five in the evening." Louis was sure Harry had completely lost it. 

"Sometimes you just have to be creative," he shrugged, already halfway out the door. 

It was when Zayn eyed him quizzically with a faint smile on his lips at the large bowl of cereal and milk before him that Harry knew he was finally in. Harry had only brought one bowl with two spoons. He thought about his mum and how she always said people got to know each other better when they had to share. She had fallen in love with his father when they had shared a milkshake using two straws at some diner in the 70's. Harry thought it odd he was thinking about falling in love now in this particular situation, but then again that was what he wanted, wasn't it? For Zayn to be in love with him like everyone else was. 

Harry, with an uncharacteristically shy tone, suggested Zayn read to him and was shocked but pleased when he agreed. Harry found he was most comfortable propped up behind him with his chin resting on Zayn's shoulder. He listened more to Zayn's voice than the actual words and because he was so distracted he spilled milk on Zayn's shirt more than once. His nervousness melted away completely when Zayn didn't scold him for the mess.

In a lot of ways, being with Zayn wasn't any different from hanging out with Liam, which had been reasonably hard for Harry at first because he was so serious. However, the uneasiness hadn't lasted anywhere near as long as it had with him and Zayn. Harry suddenly felt silly for being so careful to begin with. 

\-- 

Harry feels it happening and he pulls back, latching firmly onto Zayn to keep him on the ground. 

He can feel it in the way Louis laughs too loudly and smiles for no reason. He likes to touch Harry more, and though he truly doesn’t mind the touching in the slightest, Harry can’t help but wonder what he had done differently. He doesn’t really want change, they were getting more famous every day, the five of them. Harry’s taller and his voice deepens by the time they start recording their second album, but in a sense Louis is evolving faster than he is and he doesn’t like it. 

Zayn slow and consistent, and all of a sudden Harry prefers watching Zayn smoke on the balcony than cuddling up and watching films with Louis. Louis had forbidden Harry from choosing Love Actually, which disgruntled him greatly. Louis disliked romance movies and Harry had become used to the action films they would often watch. No romance films, that was the unspoken rule. 

Harry supposes he should have known something was up when in one particular instance Louis chooses The Princess Bride over The Dark Knight. He really should have known when Louis looks at him pointedly as Westly gazes at Buttercup and tenderly murmurs a soft, “As you wish.” 

He definitely should have known when Louis would stop watching the film altogether, eyes fixed on Harry, who’s eyes were fixed perturbedly on the floor. 

\--

It’s even more uncanny that they’re both closer to Zayn now than they are to each other. Even before he and Louis had started having problems, he was a bit envious of Louis and Zayn's relationship. It was comfortable, like his and Louis' but more in a 'tell you anything' and not a 'sleep naked beside you' kind of way. Harry wondered if Louis could be jealous of his and Zayn's new relationship-kind-of-thingy or maybe Zayn was jealous of Harry's and Louis' relationship, and then Harry would reel himself back in because probably no one was jealous of anybody. 

Ever since the day he had formed a bond with Louis he was afraid they would lose it. Harry could feel it happening all around him and it was frightening. It hadn't even been two years since they had been together and already they were breaking apart. He figured it was probably best that it happened sooner rather than later, but all the same it was heartbreaking. 

Truthfully, he was scared to say it aloud because what if it finally came true and he and Louis were no longer friends anymore? The other boys had definitely noticed that things were different. They had stopped living together, but they figured it had to be because they needed the room. Then they weren't nearly as touchy-feely anymore. It was the little things, like they wouldn't share food or steal each other's clothes or eat dinner together. They shied away from each other and if it weren't so sad it would have been comical because no one ever saw it coming. The whole thing was reminiscent of a joke with a terrible punchline. 

Harry meets Louis’ new girlfriend and honestly Harry quite likes her, though he finds the entire thing a bit convenient. He wants to ask Louis why and how, and if Eleanor has anything to do with everyone’s reaction to the two of them, but he doesn’t because he’s afraid of the answer. 

He wants to talk to someone, anyone about it, but at the same time he wanted to take the contents of the entire affair with him to his grave. It was scary in the deepest sense of the word. Funnily enough, Harry never did talk about it, even later on when things between him and Louis weren't nearly as rough as they were now. It was a dark time that he would rather forget but never would. 

When they were on the road, he found himself in Zayn's room nearly every night because he absolutely dreaded being alone with Louis (the others had yet to have taken the hint that there was tension and hadn't stopped suggesting the two be paired together in hotel rooms). 

Harry figured that if they knew, Liam would just worry the whole time and Niall would ask too many questions. Zayn was just right. Harry remembers how Louis always said he would learn to appreciate the older boy’s solemnity sometime. Of course, Harry wished it weren't in this particular circumstance that he got to experience what was surprisingly one of Zayn's best qualities, but he did appreciate it all the same. Harry used to roll his eyes when Louis would say Zayn was a good listener, because that's usually what the rumbustious friend would call the friend who never talked. Harry felt like he was being stupid a lot lately. 

Zayn didn't ask questions or frown when he cried. He was just there, holding Harry as a means of comforting him. It was as if he already knew what he was upset about (frankly, Harry thought only an idiot wouldn't know. Niall and Liam certainly weren't idiots, but their lack of attention to the situation was becoming almost absurd). Harry realized sometime during the night that this was his and Zayn's first proper hug. They had often brushed arms during group hugs or shared brief side-hugs in celebration of good comments from the judges, however this was different. Harry could smell Zayn. He smelled spicy, but sweet unlike anything he had ever smelled before. He was warm, firm on some parts but soft on others. It was nice. 

\--

It was positively mind-boggling to Harry that every relationship within the band had come to expand more except for his and Louis'. It was as if all the development they should have had over the next ten years had been shifted into a year and a half's worth of time and that was as good as things were going to get. In a lot of ways, it was more frustrating for Harry than when he was trying to become friends with Zayn. He and Louis had already begun something rare, something that was absolutely special. It made no sense for it to just evaporate like that and so quickly. 

The fans had noticed, and the common misconception was that it was Eleanor's doing. Harry wished the answer were as simple and technical as that, but the truth was that they had begun drifting long before she was even part of the picture. Perhaps he would be able to bear the fact that they were dating better if Louis still talked to him, but he just wouldn't and it was like with Zayn all over again but a million times worse. 

By this time, Liam had started to notice and would spend more time with Harry, watching television on the couch with him or making him frozen dinners. Harry had to smile at the effort because he was trying so hard to be what Louis was for him, only Louis ever only made one dinner for him that didn't taste like burnt garbage. Niall seemed to realize something as well, because he would offer him hugs more often and offer to share his cupcakes even though they had raspberry icing and it was his absolute favorite. Then Harry felt awful again because he was being selfish when he already had such great friends and who needed Louis, and then he felt like shit because he needed Louis. 

\--

Zayn despised when Louis called him 'philosophical' because he wasn't trying to be at all. He just liked musing sometimes. It helped pass the time and it was calming to read the words of men who were wiser than him and gaining more intelligence from it. So it's no surprise at all that Louis calls him a raging lunatic when one afternoon Zayn pronounces, "I've found my entrance, even though it's too soon to know my exit."

Louis goes back to twitter, wholly ignoring Zayn's irrelevant ramblings with the inattentive murmur,"You are one piece of work, my friend."

"No, Louis. I know what part I'm supposed to play,” he insisted as if one word he was saying should make any sense to Louis.

Louis' eyes are wide now, looking at Zayn as if he'd grown nine heads. 

"Remember Shakespeare?" And when Louis still looked dumbfounded, he sighed impatiently. "All the world's a stage. It's from As You Like It, remember?"

"Oh," Louis flicks his fringe out of his eyes. "I didn't read that one."

Since Zayn doesn't explain any further, Louis doesn't ask. 

\--

“...Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,

In fair round belly with good capon lined,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,

Full of wise saws and modern instances;

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,

His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide

For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion,

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”

Harry yawns loudly, causing Zayn to jump and Shakespeare’s book of poems, speeches and songs clatters to the floor. As usual, Harry wasn’t really listening to him at all. He had been watching Zayn’s lips move with the utmost concentration and had involuntarily given a deep yawn when he had stopped. Zayn picks up the book and shuts it, ruffling Harry’s curls the way he usually would before he would send Harry on his way. Harry didn’t want to go yet. 

“Let me stay here with you tonight, please.” Harry looked absolutely pathetic in an adorable sort of way. Zayn treasured his sleep greatly and preferred to do it quite alone with his comfortable bed completely to himself, but who could say no to Harry?

His hands and feet were ice cold and they made Zayn start when he felt them against his own. Also Harry squirmed a bit too much for his liking and when he finally settled, half his body rested nearly on top of Zayn’s. 

Both had ceased breathing at this point. Harry’s cold hands roamed Zayn’s back and he thought of how he wished there was light in the room so he could see him. He remembered how Louis would react to the feeling of his cold fingers on his skin at night and how he wouldn’t flinch a bit, completely used to it. Harry thought he might cry. 

As his fingers travelled up Zayn’s jaw to his mouth, he really wished there was a light on. Tracing the outline of Zayn’s lips, his breaths were surprisingly steady. There was a bit of uneasiness in his stomach, but his heart was determined. 

“I’m going to kiss you now…” he announced decidedly. He paused a moment for an objection, and when he didn’t get it he bent down and planted his mouth on the corner of Zayn’s and fuck he really needed a light right now. 

It was becoming unnerving because he couldn’t see how Zayn was reacting to any of this. Did he think it funny the way Harry missed his lips or was he scared out of his mind? Harry tried again, using his hands to help him pinpoint the precise angle of Zayn’s mouth. When their lips melted together finally, Harry could feel Zayn’s smile underneath his own. 

\--

Zayn tosses random items into the grocery cart and Louis follows behind, frowning, because something should be adding up here, and it's not. 

"Why the fuck did you make me come along with you?" He says in annoyance because he really doesn't see the point of his being here watching Zayn shop. 

"Don't you notice anything about what I'm putting into the cart?"

Louis peeks over into the basket, head cocked to the side. "It's chicken."

"Yes, but think harder." 

It clicks for him when Zayn grabs a package of mozzarella cheese off the shelf and puts it neatly into the basket. 

“I’m supposed to cook him dinner.” Louis wants to laugh because it was years ago since he made that meal for Harry and he couldn’t remember the first thing about cooking it. Zayn doesn’t look amused. He walks even faster, putting various cans and boxes into the cart and Louis has to almost jog to keep up with him. 

\--

“I’m nervous. I’m shit at this. He’ll just hate me more after I feed him this crap.” Zayn had never seen Louis look this anxious about anything, not on the X Factor live shows and not even before one of his solos. Zayn felt bad that he wanted to laugh at his friend’s expense. It was a funny little reminder that Louis was human like everyone else. 

Louis had burnt the first round of chicken because apparently he had believed that a higher temperature would make it cook faster, and had scorched the cheese so that it became more like a glue than anything. Zayn quite thought he had done well on the second try, though he had accidently touched the hot pan and burnt his fingers. Zayn thought Louis was almost cute like this, helpless and probably in love. 

“He’ll be here soon,” Louis noted the time, bouncing on his tip-toes. “Why did I let you talk me into this?” It was because Louis looked so terrified and lost that Zayn enveloped him in a hug. Louis gripped him back as if he never wanted to let go. 

\--

Louis appreciates Zayn, he really does. He appreciates him probably more than anyone else in the band, and that’s saying a lot because they all admire one another so adamantly it’s ungodly. But Louis kind of hates Zayn when he’s sitting across from Harry at the dining room table, nibbling awkwardly on dry, tasteless chicken and avoiding Harry’s longing gaze. 

Louis’ wrong if he thinks he feels shittier than Harry does. It’s worse for him, actually because he’s the one who has to sound gracious and compliment the lackluster meal, which he does politely. Louis knows he’s lying immediately and ends up feeling more insulted than ever that Harry would lie to him when Louis is perfectly aware that he’s an awful cook. He ends up feeling sadder than ever that their relationship has come to this, skirting around each other and behaving in a way that was almost urbane. 

Harry actually ends up nearly bursting into tears at the table, but quickly excuses himself to the restroom with an artificial, yet watery smile. He felt foolish that he had actually believed a simple dinner could solve several month’s worth of relationship issues. How could he be naive enough to hope? His mind had wandered back years ago to that evening where Louis had made him that first meal, recalling fondly how he had let him believe it was more appetizing than it actually was. It was the thought that counted. Truthfully, Harry had been so distracted having a good time with Louis that he had hardly been aware of how it all tasted.

He misses their bond in the worst way possible. He wants the easiness of it all. He wants his confidant, adviser and best friend. He decides that he no longer cares whether Louis wants something more or not. If he can’t have all of him, he just wants a part of him, whether or not that part is the most miniscule.

\--

When Harry’s angry he takes long ass showers. It starts out piping hot at first, and then cold when the warm water runs out. Ironically, it’s Louis who turns him on to the habit. He says it helps because it cools him down, cleans and refreshes him all at once. Harry likes to use extra soap and shampoo and watch it all flow down the drain in puddles of bubbly suds. 

Zayn shows up an hour into it and offers to wash his hair for him. Typically Harry likes to be on his own when he’s upset, but it feels okay somehow to let Zayn in right now. He hands him the shampoo bottle with a weak little grin. Harry had been crying, as he always does when he’s this angry. He can’t help it, the tears simply flow because he’s so mad and he feels like nobody ever bothers to understand why and they just don’t care. Especially Louis. This is all his fault anyway. Harry’s the victim, isn’t he?

He leans into Zayn’s touch as he scrubs his scalp. He’s always liked the feeling of someone else’s fingers in his hair. 

“I love you,” he admits without thinking. He doesn’t regret saying it, but it still feels strange on his tongue. Luckily Zayn just smiles a little and gives Harry’s curls an extra, tender massage. Things are silent for a moment before he says more hesitantly, “I love Louis.” 

To his surprise, Zayn smiles harder and presses a quick peck onto his nose. 

\--

“Coffee and wine taste awful together,” Louis decides. Zayn agrees. Neither of them like coffee or wine, really. Together they’re even worse, the flavors colliding to create a bitter, fruity taste. They continue to drink nonetheless because they’re tired and want to stay up and talk, but they also want alcohol and there’s nothing else in the hotel room with them besides the horrible cheap beer in the mini fridge. 

“Harry says he loves you,” Zayn says carefully. Zayn had known since the moment Harry told him that he had to let Louis know, though Harry would probably be livid if he knew that his secret was short-lived. 

Louis freezes, setting down his nearly empty mug of coffee. “And he told you that.” Louis’ eyebrows are raised so high that they disappear into his fringe. His words suggested a confirmation, though his tone told Zayn that he knew he was telling the truth.

“He told me,” Zayn repeats, dumping the entire pot of coffee into the sink and watching it disappear down the drain. 

Louis looks conflicted for a second, burying his face in his hands, chanting something to himself under his breath that sounds a lot like “no, no, no…”

Zayn just sits there, drawing a million theories for why Louis is reacting this way, but he gets his answer before too long. Louis is pacing now, looking as if his entire world is over. 

“He’s too good for me,” he says breathlessly. “He loves me. Why does he love me? I’m a horrible person.”

“Stop it, Lou.” Zayn means to be gentle, but Louis is really pissing him off right now. “What happened between you two? Did you have a fight?” 

“No,” Louis sighs miserably. “We just stopped talking.”

“Then maybe you need to talk.” It’s too simple of a suggestion for Louis to take it seriously and Zayn knows it. But probably it’s the only solution. 

“He misses you,” Zayn adds, trying his best to sound persuasive. 

“I miss him, too.” Louis looks nervous all of a sudden. “I can’t talk to him, though.”

“Louis-”

“No, please. I can’t.” 

Louis looks completely repulsed as he finishes the remainder of the wine in one gulp. 

\--

Zayn wants to fucking strangle Louis. The walls are thudding and moans can be heard through the other side. Zayn winces as it causes his headboard to vibrate. He thinks about Harry and he wants to throw up. 

As expected, Harry comes in making almost no noise as he shuts the door and cuddles up to Zayn. He buries his head in the crook of his shoulder so fast that Zayn hardly gets a good look at him. Nevertheless he can tell that he had been crying. 

He doesn’t cry now, he just wants to be held. He hadn’t spoken since Eleanor had joined them on the tour bus and he hadn’t slept properly since long before that. None of them have, really. Zayn removes himself from Harry with difficulty (Harry murmurs a desperate “no,” his first word in days, and clings even harder) and finally manages to snag his ipod off the top bunk. 

He pulls up some Shakespeare audio books and lets Harry listen with the sound on the headphones turned all the way up. Harry doesn’t speak to Louis until nearly a month later, when he asks him quietly if he can pass the milk. 

\--

Just when things are calming down, Harry’s scared again. He had gotten used to the awkward silence that was present whenever he and Louis were in the same room alone together. He had gotten accustomed to the fact that the best friend he ever had was gone and that he wasn’t coming back. 

What he didn’t expect was for Zayn to change, too. He wasn’t supposed to change. He was supposed to be steady, never absent when Harry needed him. Harry felt even colder than he had when Louis had started shutting him out (and he’s shocked to discover that it’s even possible). Zayn would smile less and stay in his room more. When Eleanor would visit, he wouldn’t cuddle Harry or distract him like he used to. 

Harry felt like shit because it was as if he had taken ten steps backwards with Zayn and because he was his alternative to Louis he had figured things weren’t supposed to get any worse. He certainly hadn’t expected them to. 

Harry felt that maybe he should get used to being disappointed. 

\--

Harry doesn’t realize what he’s doing until after he does it. His feet had somehow carried him to Louis’ room and his knuckles have been tapping on the door long before he tells them to stop. Louis opens the door and Harry can see he’s exhausted after the five shows they did that week. His boxers are riding low on his hips and otherwise he’s bare and exposed. His hair is tousled and he’s wiping drool off the corner of his mouth. Harry tries not to stare. 

“Harry?” 

Harry bites his lip, not knowing what he wanted to accomplish by bothering Louis. He hadn’t exactly planned on any of this, and now that he’s here he has no idea what he wants to say. 

They just kind of stare at each other for a moment before Louis invites him in. Harry sits on the bed and notices how nervous Louis is suddenly. It makes Harry nervous, too, so he stops looking at Louis and become interested in the patterns on the floor. 

Louis sits across from him, Harry can tell from how the bed dips in on the other side and he looks up hesitantly, instantly regretting it when he sees Louis’ bright blue eyes. Harry suddenly realizes how long it’s been since he actually really looked at Louis up close. He’s not the nineteen year old he was infatuated with in the beginning during the live shows. He’s a twenty-one year old man now, whom Harry absolutely adores. 

“I’m worried about Zayn.” Harry is whispering, not because he’s afraid Zayn will hear, but because it’s been forever since he’s talked to Louis and he wonders if his voice really even works around him anymore. 

Harry tells him in which ways Zayn is different as much as he can without making himself sound pathetic and needy. Louis doesn’t look confused like Harry thought he would. He listens to Harry with an expression of understanding and Harry knows he’s not the only one who’s noticed a change in their friend. 

“I said so to Liam, but he was convinced that I was imagining it,” Louis looks relieved for a bit, then worried. “I suppose we should say something.” 

Harry agrees, feeling a tingle run through him when Louis says “we.” 

\--

Harry runs into Liam on the way to the lavatory, nearly knocking him to the ground. 

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes, embarrassed, but Liam just shrugs it off with a forced smile. He leaves Harry puzzled because clearly there was something wrong. Harry reckons he’d feel more inclined to follow after him and find out if only his bladder didn’t feel as if it would explode any second. 

What he doesn’t expect when he opens the bathroom door is to find Zayn sitting on the edge of the bathtub, crying silently into his hands. He gets up and leaves all the more silently when he spots Harry. 

Harry would love to take the time to put two and two together, but he really needs to wee. 

\--

When Harry was ten, he went to the circus with Gemma. His mother had dropped them off and it was just the two of them. Harry felt like his eyes were opened that day. He had observed the odd and unnatural and he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of the fire breathers because people just weren’t supposed to breathe fire. He couldn’t stop talking about it for days afterwards because it was just so surreal that something like it could exist. 

That’s how he felt when he went to Louis’ room again that following week only to find him on the bed with Zayn pinned beneath him, his lips teasing the corner of Louis’ mouth hotly. Harry was quiet, but they were bound to notice him soon. He didn’t know what to feel as he witnessed the heated, open-mouthed kisses and rather rough little bites. He couldn’t even find it within himself to blush when Zayn’s fingers travelled up the back of Louis’ shirt. 

Harry was more fascinated than anything, though he did feel slightly possessive and slightly less so envious . He likes the look of them together more than he would ever admit, though something inside him was telling him that Zayn is his, but then so is Louis and he just ends up confused and more intrigued than ever. 

Zayn notices him first and then Louis. Detaching his mouth from his friend’s, Zayn smiled a little in his direction while Harry couldn’t help but notice how Louis looked as if he was a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Zayn flips them over so that he’s on top and rolls off of a panting Louis, giving Harry a wink before he beckons him into the room. 

Harry finally felt the need to be embarrassed and flushed all the way down to his toes now that he had both of their attention. He was surprised when Zayn tugged him down into his lap, pressing a little kiss to the side of his face and running his fingers through his curls. 

It was incredibly awkward to say the least. He felt inclined to squirm, but figured that considering his position it would make things all the more awkward. Louis cleared his throat, running his fingers through his mussed hair and scooting as far from Zayn and Harry as possible. 

“So,” Zayn starts, breaking the outlandish silence with an amused smirk. “Louis says you’re worried about me.”

“I-” Harry starts, looking at Louis who avoids his gaze. His eyes travel back to Zayn, who has something honest in his eyes despite the teasing. “I was...I mean we were. We were worried.”

Zayn smiles and kisses him again, and Harry really feels confused now. “Don’t be. I’m alright, as you can see, Louis’ really cheered me up.” He then looks between the two of them expectantly. Harry blushes again. He wants to disappear.

Thankfully, Louis makes up some excuse and leaves before too long, despite the fact that it’s his bedroom. The corners of Zayn’s mouth drop and he looks somewhat disappointed. Harry comes up with an excuse too (it’s even worse than Louis’) and is gone before Zayn can say anything else. 

\--

In his efforts to avoid both Zayn and Louis, Harry spends most of his time with Niall in front of the television, stuffing his face. Either that or he’s at the gym with Liam, though he’s stopped going as much because Liam likes long, strenuous workouts and Harry likes the short kind with breaks in between. 

Harry had skipped out on breakfast with the other four this morning and had already made dinners plans with one of Kim Kardashians little sisters, whose name he can’t quite remember at the moment. He knew the idea would please their team, who had suggested he spend some time out getting acquainted with other celebrities his own age. Apparently, they had his best interests at heart. He begged to differ. 

When Zayn lets himself in, Louis behind him carrying shopping bags, Harry pushes his head up off of Niall’s shoulder and decides to go for a walk. 

\--

“Harry.”

He looks up from his bed (he gets his own this time. They are given the privilege of sleeping in a hotel tonight as opposed to the tour bus) and sees Zayn standing there. Unsurprisingly, Louis is by his side. For once he doesn’t look embarrassed or nervous. His eyes are determined. 

Harry’s about to patronize Zayn for failing to knock, but doesn’t because he has his Rolling Stones album turned up so loudly he couldn’t have known the difference. He’s too tired from last night’s show to attempt escaping his two friends. He settles back against his pillow, sighing because he didn’t expect they would be having it out so soon. Curse his weak, gangly legs. 

Louis sits on the bed next to him, but Zayn remains in the doorway, eyes trained on him. Harry tries not to look at him or Louis, but pauses the music and waits with bated breath. 

“So that’s it?” Zayn sounds offended. “You’re not even going to talk to us?”

“Sorry?” Harry offers and even he winces at how pathetic he sounds. 

“Forget it,” Louis cuts in before someone says something they will regret. “That’s over and done with.”

Harry looks at Zayn, who nods reluctantly, joining Louis and Harry on the bed. Things are quiet for a minute and Harry suddenly wishes he did leave when he still had the chance. After a moment, he feels Zayn’s cold hand on his thigh and he jumps. Louis laughs at him, the bastard. Zayn leans over and kisses Louis on the mouth, quieting him. Harry smirks because it serves him right. 

Harry’s so occupied being overjoyed at Louis’ expense he doesn’t notice until too late the two pairs of ravenous eyes staring right at him. He tries to swallow but finds that he can’t. Zayn is more brazen than Louis, pushing Harry against the bedspread, expression completely unabashed. 

Harry’s feels his body relax, his throat allows him to swallow again. He may be calm on the outside, but inwardly his mind is in panic mode, his brain repeating the words, ‘shit...oh shit…”

He lets himself breathe freely when Zayn lets up, releasing his mouth to nip at his jaw and neckline. He feels Louis’ presence beside him, though he doesn’t seem to be moving. Zayn senses this as well and pulls Louis down with them, tangling them together into a pool of limbs. 

Harry’s tired of just sitting there, feeling strange and helpless and mushes his lips onto Zayn’s smirking mouth, scraping his lips against his prickly stubble. Louis moves finally, playing with the hem of Zayn’s shirt before pulling it over his head, forcing Harry to move back for a few seconds. Harry realizes just how long it’s been since he’s been in such close proximity to Zayn. He has about a dozen new tattoos on his upper body. Harry decides that he likes them. 

Louis is working on Zayn’s pants, fingers fumbling around clumsily in a way that was completely unlike him. Harry moves down to help, but Zayn pushes them both off, licking at Harry again, eyes glued to Louis’ as if intending to allure him. Harry bites his swollen bottom lip, stifling his own needy cries. He wants so badly, tears threaten to overflow. 

“That’s better, now,” Zayn says, voice reassuring as he thumbs at Harry’s trembling jaw. “You look so good like this.”

Louis seems to agree, coming out of his trance to pounce on Harry as well. Harry freezes, letting out the most guttural moan. His heart is nearly skyrocketing because Louis Tomlinson is kissing him, touching him everywhere. Louis whom he’s been besotted with since he was sixteen. He thinks about how he used to dream of marrying Louis and living by the sea somewhere with awful food trucks that sold fish and chips and children laughing on every corner. 

Louis is the perfect contrast to Zayn. His hands are warm rather than cold and his face is completely smooth as it moves across Harry’s skin. 

He wants to scream out Louis’ name, but Zayn’s hand covers his mouth. He remembers that Liam and Niall are in the rooms surrounding theirs and he has to be quiet but he almost doesn’t care who hears because he’s wanted this for so long. 

Harry throws his head back against Zayn’s shoulder as Louis starts in on him slowly, but quickly grows desperate and begins to ravage him shamelessly. Zayn watches Louis fill Harry, looking almost amused in a way that could only be described as completely evil. Zayn has to cover Harry’s mouth again when he gets too loud, his other hand travelling through Harry’s sweaty curls as he whispers praise and encouragement to the younger boy. 

Harry wonders how things could have ended up like this. 

\--

It isn’t until Louis’ passed out that Harry starts to feel as though he is beginning to understand a thing about any of the boys in this band. It had been so unreal and fantastic, finally getting to be with Louis, but once the ride had ended Harry could do nothing but think.

He finally removes his gaze from Louis’ sleeping form and turns to Zayn who had been watching him. Harry feels both guilty and stupid for taking so long to notice. Perhaps he had been selfish, whether he had been within good reason or not. 

Harry lifts his leg out from under Louis’ heavy one and cuddles up to Zayn. He knows he’s justified in asking, but still feels as if he’s intruding when he says, “What’s going on between you and Liam?”

Zayn’s eyebrows push together, but he doesn’t move away from Harry. Harry takes that as a good sign. 

“Not a thing actually,” he replies almost bitterly. Harry leans forward and lets Zayn play with his curls because he knows it relaxes him. “I let him know how I felt only because I was tired of pretending. He was nice about it, but…”

“Louis knew though, didn’t he?” Harry looks over at his sleeping friend, frowning. “You told him and he comforted you.”

“I told him,” Zayn confirms. 

“You didn’t tell me.” Harry wills himself not to cry. He doesn’t want to make this about him, it only matters that Zayn’s okay, but somehow it still hurts. 

“I’m sorry,” and he really looks it, so Harry forgives him. 

They lay there for a moment, Zayn holding on to Harry for dear life. Harry doesn’t mind at all. Suddenly Zayn says, “I don’t like his girlfriend. I told Louis that I did, but I really don’t.” 

Harry suspects he’s only telling him this because he feels guilty, but it’s still nice. Quite honestly, Harry likes Sophia just as much as he does Eleanor but he doesn’t tell Zayn that. Zayn shudders a little and Harry thinks he might cry, so he kisses him all over and tells him sweet things in his ear. 

\--

When Harry awakens the following morning, Zayn isn’t there. He on the verge of freaking out until he remembers that last night wasn’t just him and Zayn, it was Louis too. He turns over and there’s Louis, cerulean irises trained on Harry. 

“I love you,” Harry blurts it out before he can lose his courage and he immediately hates himself for it. 

Louis sighs, looking at Harry as if he were a child who had just said something unusually silly. 

“At least pretend as if you believe me.” Harry is extremely offended because, sure, it’s not like he poured his heart out or anything, but he just told Louis he loves him and he goes and reacts like that?

Harry wants to be mad at Louis for completely blowing him off without even having the decency to be nice about it, but he thinks there may be an underlying problem here and here’s determined to find it out. 

“I don’t care what they say, you know.” Harry is whispering though he doesn’t know why. Nothing about the way he feels is dirty or secretive, plus as far as he knows the other boys are sleeping and no one can hear them anyway. 

“Neither do I, believe it or not,” Louis replies stonily. 

Harry doesn’t, and it must have registered in his expression because Louis scoffs and throws a pillow at his face. 

“So that’s what you think of me, then? I thought you knew me well enough. I wouldn’t let anyone control me like that.”

Harry is thoroughly confused by now, biting the inside of his cheek in frustration. “So why are you doing it, then? I know you love me, I can see it every time you look at me and I feel it whenever we’re together. Don’t lie to me because I’m not fucking stupid.” His stomach grumbles then, and he hates Louis so much right now he considers ending the conversation in exchange for an omelette and some toast. 

Louis feels just as pissed off as Harry looks, but it doesn’t show because he’s exhausted in every aspect of the word. 

“It’s not because I don’t love you. God, I love you,” Louis breathes and Harry’s heart flutters. “But as I said before, I won’t let anyone control me,” he pauses. “Not even you.”

Harry really wants to hit him, preferably with something extremely heavy like a brick. “You’re doing this to me because you have fucking commitment issues? Fuck, Louis.”

“Damn it, Harry. I don’t have commitment issues,” he snaps. “I’d be the best damn boyfriend you ever had.” Harry suddenly feels very warm. 

“Then explain it to me, because I’m just not getting it,” Harry says. His stomach growls again and Louis notices this time, eyes flicking down to Harry’s bare torso, and he flushes. 

“You would control me because you already do. You control my thoughts and my actions and I hate it,” he concedes quietly. Harry’s extremely hungry and he’s so unbelievably mad at Louis, but he can’t help but soften at the guilty look on the older boy’s face. 

Harry sighs. “So you pulled away from me when I needed you most? Was that really worth our friendship, Lou?”

“I didn’t think it would affect our friendship,” his eyes are downcast and somehow it bothers Harry more. “I just wanted to discourage you from trying to pursue a relationship.”

Harry swears again, more furious at Louis than he’s probably ever been. He had spent over a year completely miserable because he had thought Louis hated him, and he gets this lousy explanation. 

“You pulled back, too,” Louis accused. “Don’t just pin it all on me. We fell together and we both freaked out, but you resisted first. That’s why I reacted the way I did.”

Harry fidgets restlessly. He knows it’s not all Louis’ fault, but things suddenly get more complicated when Louis calls him out. 

“You were confusing me,” he defends, ignoring Louis’ look of skepticism. “You wouldn’t tell me what you wanted.”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do?”

“Just stop it,” Harry says in frustration. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that shit you just told me. I don’t give a fuck about what your motives were. Just fix it. Fit it with Eleanor and just…fix everything,” Harry doesn’t have the energy to argue anymore and quite frankly he doesn’t want to. He’s just tired of being constantly pissed off. 

“I...yeah,” Louis swallows. 

“And I want you to stop fucking lying to me all the time,” Harry continues. “It’s getting real old real fast. It’s fine if you don’t want to be in an actual relationship. I just want my best mate back.” 

Harry watches, dazed as Louis’ fingers reach up and hesitantly brush against Harry’s face. He tenses, breaths shortening, and waits. Louis looks as if he might want to kiss him, but doesn’t. Harry doesn’t try to stop himself from leaning into his touch. 

“I want you,” Louis admits. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but I do. So badly.”

“How much of me do you want?” Harry asks carefully. 

Louis lets himself finally look at Harry for the first time since the night before. He’s beautiful. “All of you.”

Harry thinks he could just die of happiness. He smiles Louis’ favorite smile for the first time in forever, the one with the dimples and the teeth and rosy cheeks. Harry’s always been his and finally Louis realizes it. 

“Me too.” 

\--

Zayn returns a few minutes later with a breakfast tray. Louis almost chokes at the mawkish display, a single horribly chopped sunflower floating in a vase of water sits at the forefront. Zayn rolls his eyes at Louis, then smiles when he notices the two of them. Louis is climbing off of Harry, ruffling his already messy curls playfully. Harry is smiling much too hard. 

“Alright, then?” Zayn hands Harry a plate of toast and he nearly purred with delight. 

“Yeah,” Louis answers, diving in to grab an omelette off the tray. It’s rather large, so he splits it with Harry, who tucks into it gratefully. 

Having already had breakfast himself, Zayn perches on the edge of the bed, watching them eat. It’s silent, but it’s a different kind of silence, the good kind. None of them can remember the last time things were this amicable. It’s nice, and Zayn would be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased he had ‘fulfilled his part’ so to speak. However, he couldn’t help but wonder apprehensively what his role in this relationship would be in the future. 

Louis notices first and signals Harry with his eyes. They both smile and Louis grabs Zayn from the front, Harry sneaking up from behind as they tackle him to the ground. Zayn feigns a smile and doesn’t worry anymore. He figures if there’s any role he should be chosen to play, he’s fortunate it’s the lead.


End file.
